Jasper County Democrat, Volume 1, Number 46, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 February 1899 — THE CHILDREN'S CRUSADE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE CHILDREN'S CRUSADE

• chatter an. Count 'Stephen hall no mwil tt» tufll tib*Otory of bo. vow, tin”tlH‘ ioviiiim«' ltii>u»)ff ■hone on his breast a* lterlaeeij:th) "'iiuiui4r train. The night of tin- uribisesmss ttusttt ed the gay laughter of ’the young ;]*eiqll«;. who wen- riding iowiitU Ihim. iff tljf magic; and every fuse lliecanoThey knew too wl what tiun nirmn meant. The wtiftw lltuti rtaban m wow which •spanned him from tint- CWlhnw*. much an if he had become :u munik tor ta hermit; and. once taken. rthon- twos mi> means of discarding it. waive an tike ijnnw of diagrace on earth, nod. as tnnsC tinrulW believed, of eternal juniwUnmnn ntturr death. r We, in our days in •free Mmmmm. liu***little idea erf w'hut the ♦Otuaaiks irotllyv were. In the time wMteii tComtt titanlleui lived, they demanded tberr tibnasanlfei off victims with nnfailmg iTwgiilaztSc. antfl ■pared none. That our iron dim*. illli :nutl young, may understand 'thin ibeitwr. ;u 9«w facts may be mentioned lltere to save rthem from the trouble erf hunting thorn iqp S*rr themselves. The Crusades were a weries off wms,, carried on by 'Christian mam. \wlfan \wure crosses on their tikouiden*. .ns in -sign tiun they would he tTueti.-the.cnKSK. Thetiina Crusade ended in the capture 'iff .floirmut lem from the Turks. u.hundred: anti mwtfkve years before the boy count iheorti LEiiiUebrand preaching at •Vnucluse. Jiltw tilte capture of the {Holy 'Cit.y a 'Clhrsttian Hang dom was -set up in Takenim-, the iniinth off which is still to be -seen in the oniius off many an old castle, uud in the iClhrsniun churches at Jerusalem itself. IFliits jnsai after the capture of Jerusalem. the flittim kingdom was overthTnwn Ugr the attac, Sultan Saladin. uud a -second mill tiiiirU crusade Tailed to takeiitihadk. IFrroni (thin time forth crusade after crusade wits own up or preached, all to end tin atiwtrndbt failure. 3* e sixth wue .in ijiropwssm tintime of Stephen « vow, and Until llirngusih ed along far eight yeurs.tu:|mriiesoffuurne ed pilgrims, who sought their way to If Tail eetiue as they could, and -gmorbit} ll«ir isli-d on the way. Then It was. in the 321!!. that the mnnik Hildebrand, with the truutie odea tiff ten bating the aid of heuveu to ilue'Oinerjmse, began to preach the tlhilttnuis tflrusulh;. umh-r the hoi«e that children liloie.-. ms being free from -sin. might ll»e jjuUgetl worthy of-seeing the fippiilidier. iff rfliifbn. Such wds the effect of Hus* el oil uoutotiim thousands of children thud listen iguthered together; and. at the mimnein \wthou tilefrantic hermit proclaimed titaqiitun tilte leader of the new 'Orinaide, ihftiy thou ■and children of all ages, first igathexeti together at X'endonie, ,in the ■ (turner off France, were slowly marching ttnwarU Marseilles, supisirted lit the offering* off the pious as they went; singing ihymns, carrying white hauuem and sumuuiwd I Ivy that remarkable enthusiasm, twihiiih thus been a wonder to the world »w«r -smite. Stephen had heard of them, mud thud wondered, with the rent .of Ibis tfrieulhi. what would become of them. Be thud heard jeers and gilies, at the fidfer talhoth thought to conquer the Turks with nu army of children, and the last thing Use had had in his mind that miumlng thud been that -he should be found amuugthom. Yet here'be was. consecrated tkrtfure itili the people as the deader uTtltcKlldldreii'-* Crusade, and before him was his abam;, the being be loved better than .aif* .one else, save his mother, lodking at ttlu-valhite cross on his breast as if the siglc lhad frighteae4 bcr. „ He coifld not avoid the meeting.innr.did he wish to do so, in the -state .iff -rauttu lion to which lie bad been raised !ljy tin preaching of the old hermit. "It is true, uii sister,” be said, without watting to be questioned, asßlondhcdtanw rein in front of him and stnreil attke-ijynr Itol on his breast, with dilated '*ftt is true. 1 have taken tin- cross, mud Mil dehrand has appointed me the ikrnUer off the Childrens Crusadet*><drivethelinfiddl from the sepulcher.” Blanche gazed at him silent ky. and line young friends with her grazed in ;the -sunn sort of stupefaction The sister .iff Stephen was a slight, -graceful grit, IhitTdiy beyond childhood, with large dark eyyes, a delicate rose-white complexion, .and ta disposition noted for gentleness mud Hund ness to all sufferers. 'That disposition shoue out now, as. instead of Ifauattiig into reproaches, as -Htqptajii had eaQatuted. the girl, in a low voice naked ihim: “And have you asked our ihUJy : motion whether she approved of itT’ It was rather a singular thing that rth» Question, like that of Big JNrter ailittlr tiefore, seemed to irritate ■the hoy. count. 9m “ ‘He that will not leave rfather an£ aaotber to follow the land ihoth mo i|Mcn lit Him.* I have taken the am on m*

da- muill on every face, launched out at oni'o ihlti’ a fiery speech, modeled on what lie- limb Heard, tram the old hermit a short time- befhre, calling on all his young OBUBilb to join him in lighting for the (Unsa>. Hike Hildebrand, he painted the tarenns- off hell, ami the delights of heaven, wliinhi was- to- he the portion of every one whiixliadl Sir the cross. Transported by his- new-horn, enthusiasm, he forgot himmdir entirely, ami poured, forth a burst of idhtpiem-e that astonished his heaters, already disposed: to believe him a hero, as threiingdune something they dared not do. AT the- while he was exhorting them they gathered! (dimer round, him, and, as he tjauseill flbr Breath, a black-eyed girl, with m dlirlt, richi face and. crimsou cheeks, onrndl our, enthusiastically:; ■‘bjisli wills it:!. E, too, will join the cru■enlk umi light Cur the cross! God will talk!- earn-off us-!” Staghorn tumeti on her with flashing eyws). "rising: “fbuhei Ehiranee, heaven is with thee! 'Tiun: shuit He' called the Queen of the Chrmarfk” Who- follows the cross?” “IT” unit! “o.”’ ami “E!” cried several nngr-g wiices;: anil within a few minutes fbruni the- time he met his sister with her fhteniUs. hu hail! secured eager recruits tiTOiti iivu<ry. noble family in that part of ttle-noimtuivanifc was leailiug them off in a rnmpest off enthusiasm away from the ou»tUc he-(lluv*d: not outer, the romantic hoys imili ginls- toiling in with the idea of the (.(hildreni* Cmtsuile with as little thought uffthe totune as-iff it had been a new game they wu'ss playing which, in fact, it was, to* their ihnoeimce and ignorance. Away they went at full gallop, taking trie- way rmvnrd the plains that lay by trie- riwn Dkuranee, where it was said that trie-great: earnp'off the children's crusade htuii been, spread: to which circumstance trie willing! affYaubst owed the tiery sermoni ih hnd: heard that (lay. fllhiy littd not tor to go, when they topped! m httib- Utioil, and beheld, far away heffim- them,, a. grassy pluin dotted with lwhite'tonfSH. round which the stuoke of the m-ttithi tires*, iust as in a real camp, rose no lleavou. 'The sight seemed to set the young peopib- witrii titrpheu. wild: with delight, as rttey meedi their horses down toward the uaiiqji. Heruled: by the enthusiastic young ihnitbn,. his Iking curls llyiug in the wind, his ivilwf oap bliiwn from Ills head, the wihi to- (tress shilling on his shoulder, as he spurred! his siight-herlt jennet far in adiviuitciilf alii Blit itti the- wihE race there were two I people' whin UtoU no purt. Big Peter and trie sister „ff the enthusiastic Stephen, Ibtrih uppeatiug as if: some great misformmt had. overtalien; them, sut looking at mathtortietrasttie t'hihlren tore away, and ffikniths-wias the first to break the silence Uy saying: “Wdh. ffbtHn. what will become of them, until what will! my mother say?’ Big ffhttur twitched his face, as if he ikuritdl no* answer;, hut when Blanche repeMtndl trie (uxestion he said slowly: •*sSi> plbtise my lutly Blanche, there is Butt one-triiug tic do,, and that is to go and toil! my- Hindi and: my lady. Perchance we in ay He ttikib to stay this folly in the tCliillih-Btaßhem” ••KhilUb” was trie usuul tirle of a youth till! he- became a* knight, in. those days, uutU Bltmehe uudersfood Peter to refer to* hsir Hmrticn. lf-iiir tile- drat time since she hnd seen titan item wirih trie- aross oa his shoulder, silo- begun to* droop, as iff about to weep, mull -hutil ini ai dreary tone of voice: ‘♦MU. Phtar!! PtttMri It will kill my miurietr!! Hit* loae her only son by this '•nmdl onusuite that sweeps high and low! ffliw shall! B toll; her? B dare not. You inner dli* ill!” Big Phtortgirva his broad shoulders an urinuac imperceptible shrug as he onswerudi: * Amßiffmy lbdlp Blanche dare not speak nr* Herr uwm mother;, how shall E, who am thift ut poorr peasant,, appntach the countess witrii sui'lh news-?” BHun-Ue shrauredi and her soft dark eyes Ihekkeh very pitsous*. as site said to the big pensantt hey:: •‘B»nt B Urns her- so that I cannot give Herr print <Mh. iff iff were but pain to tnyselff.B vwmiifi go* in. an. instant! Oh, Peter, vvolll ynm toll! hen;, or must B do it?’ nhe- big follow olimed his lips as if he worn- shutting a* trap, and did not answer flfor tunin' seeondb, during which the girl wstahedi him anriously.. At Dost he said, **ff wtill (fir* iff. good my lady, for your sarie- ani£ triari off trie Oikie titophen. But iff Bar giea*. I gn> with, him.’” Btumthe nodded: heir httib head, as she “Arnfl wm isl» B. Vhtec. B take no cross, Unix my Bmtfhm shuih not go into danger unibsw B ami aig& Him; to pray for him and gnarilHuni «■ ■aßlw a weak, giri can do.” Brimßw aori tfia peasant-born, youth trior tin tria-haill. alt trie- upper end off which. mmmmumH plteffinm; eallbdl a “daia,” sat Hades,, (ingagcd! tin trie perpetual embroidlnpy whiithi ww trie occupation of ladies t£||p (.■ ■■■ writ Hmß*** mw a*,, niinnnt* innitihla

reply of Blanche; at which i/he lady wotfT* have made some remark, when her attention was dffracted by the spectacle of Big Peter, who had followed the gjrl to the edge of the dais, and stood there, fingering his cap in his hands, the picture of embarrassment and awkwardness. ‘‘What woujdst thou, Peter?” asked the lady of the enstie, thinking he had some request to make. ”80 please my lady," said Big Peter, slowly, "the Childc Stephen atid myself, we were riding to the Chateau Lenoir, when we saw many people in the market place of Vnucluse; and the Childe turned to see whence wns the crowd, when we found there the iponk Hildebrand, preaching the Children’s Crusade, as they call it, and* ” Here he paused, unable to continue at the sight of the face of his beloved mistress, who turned deadly pale and seemed to be gasping for breath. She, too, had heard of the Children's Crusade, and seemed to anticipate what was coming, for she faltered, brokenly: “And he What hath happened, Peter? Torture uie tiot with doubts, but tpll me at once. Did he listen to the preacher?” “He did, my lady,” was the low reply; “and the preacher so worked on my young lord that he took the cross, and has gone to the camp of the children near Avignon.” The poor lady started to her feet with a faiutr shriek at the news, and stood for a moment like one stunned, unable to comprehend the fullness of the disaster. Stephen was her only son, the heir of the castle, and if he were killed the inheritance of the family would go to a cousin whose land adjoined hers, and who was, perhaps, the only person in Provence that the gentle countess feared and disliked. The ladies on the dais had risen and .were crowding round her, thinking she was about to faint, when she caught sight of her daughter, and, starthig violently, cried out: "Oh, Blanche, Blanche, and you let him do it! Why could you not' stop him? Oh, my son, my sou!” Blanche answered no word to the undeserved reproof; but honest Peter interpostnl at once, in his bluff manner, saying: “My Indy Blanche knew nothing of it till we met her at the castle, and then .it was too late. The Childe Stephen had taken the cross. But, surely my lord the count can forbid his going. It is a mad freak to send tender children to fight Turks, and my lord can stop it if he hath a mind to.” His words seemed to give great comfort to the distressed lady as she heard him, and she said, with a faint hope in her voice: “He can! He must! Oh, I will go to Rome myself, and weary the Holy Father with prayers to give my boy a dispensation front this wild, this wicked vow. It is impossible that he can suffer it. Come, ladies, let us go at once to the count.” And without waiting she hurried off through the long stone corridors of the castle to find the count, who was at the time in the armory inspecting the weapons, with a grizzled old soldier, who was his manager, and whose title, in those days, was “Seneschal of the Castle.” The seneschal’s name wns Hugh Barhot, and he wns showing the count a huge battleax as the ladies invaded the armory, where they were not wont to be seen, while the countess broke out into a hurried and agitated story of the way in which they were like to lose the heir of the castle by the crusade if something were not done at once to stop it. The count was ’8 stalwart man of middle height, with broad shoulders and legs slightly bowed at the knees from the habit of constant riding. He hnd been a fnmous knight in his prime, with a great reputation for strength, and had received so many wounds in his young days that he moved stitHy now. His temper was hasty and fierce, and as soon as he beard the story of the rash vow into which his son had entered he began to use very strong !ang*nge, and swore that he would go after the boy and bring him back by the hair of the head, if there were no other way. “We have shed enough blood in these silljyjj-usadcs,” he snid, with great anger; “aniTTt is but a pretense for the monks to get-hold of the estates of those who go. We have fighting enough at home to do to keep the robbers from the roads; aad here is the boy that should be ready to take up my sword when I am too old to fight, going off ou a wild-goose chase after Turks that never harmed him. Get me my horse, and tell the men to saddle up, and we will show this Hildebrand that he cannot rob us of our children, though there are fools iu France that lot him do it elsewhere.” The old knight showed so much anger and determination that the countess felt wonderfully encouraged, and helped him all she could as he hurried his preparations to get ready a troop of horse to follow the truant boy and bring him back to the castle. Within an hour from the time that Big Peter had brought in the news of Stephen’s flight to aid the Children’s Crusade Count Stephen do Vaux the elder, mounted on his charger, and covered with armor from head to foot, was riding off toward Avignon, determined to bring back his boy, or know the reason why he could not get him. And with him rode the countess and Blanche. Would they he able to persuade the boy to come back? (To be continued.) Copyright.